


consign me not to darkness

by MisanthropyMuse



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Force Bond (Star Wars), Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, POV Obi-Wan Kenobi, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Episode: s04e13 Escape From Kadavo, Post-Zygerria Arc (Star Wars: Clone Wars), missing moment, or ten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:13:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29164761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisanthropyMuse/pseuds/MisanthropyMuse
Summary: After Kadavo, back to the temple, there's time for quiet confessions, treatment for bruises and emotional scars, and a long-overdue apology.I wrote it as one-sided romance, but it's completely canon compliant and can be read as platonic if you consider platonic canon novel-style strong affectionate-bordering-on-romantic feelings.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 6
Kudos: 85





	consign me not to darkness

“ _But oh, my heart was flawed,_  
_I knew my weakness._  
_So hold my hand:_  
_Consign me not to darkness_ „ 

**_Broken Crown – Mumford & Sons _ **

A batter of sharp knocks on the durasteel door rips Obi-Wan out of his already weak attempt at meditation. 

He doesn’t even have time to say anything before the door is pried open by Force, revealing a rather rattled Anakin on the other side. 

Obi-Wan is not surprised to see him, partly because he knew when he left the Halls of Healing that his former padawan wouldn’t have missed a chance to reprimand him, but mostly because he felt him approach in the Force, his signature more a flare than a glow, thrice as powerful as any other presence in the Temple. 

“Hello, Anakin. Come in,” he says, not bothering to get up from the couch to greet him. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” he tries to keep his tone light and amused, but he can hear his own exhaustion seep through the words. 

“Why aren’t you in the Halls of Healing?” asks Anakin right away, equal parts worried and upset. 

“Don’t worry, I made sure Ahsoka was alright before leaving,” Obi-Wan responds, in a vain attempt to shift the attention away from himself. 

“You know that’s not what I mean,” says Anakin, walking into the room and letting the door close behind him. “I know you forced them to discharge you.” 

Obi-Wan briefly wonders which medical droid Anakin had terrorised for that information and shakes his head at the thought. 

“I’m fine, Anakin. There was no reason I should take up a bed from someone who might need it more,” says Obi-Wan, and though it’s not technically a lie, it’s not the whole truth either and Anakin knows it. 

For a second Obi-Wan feels him burn in the Force and expects him to yell at him for being an irresponsible hypocrite who doesn’t listen to his own advice. But only for a second. With a sigh, Anakin’s feelings quiet down and soften, turning into waves of comforting warmth that comes to lap at the edges of their bond. 

He crosses the small room and comes to sit next to him on the couch, turned towards him so that he can see his face, though Obi-Wan is doing his best not to meet his eyes. 

For a while, silence sits heavy around them, not quite uncomfortable but still charged with some unease and a tinge of impatience. 

Anakin is the one to break it, of course, first with another sigh and then by saying, in the smallest voice, “You don’t have to hide anything from me.” 

Oh, how Obi-Wan wishes that were true. 

Still, he doesn’t need to hide this from Anakin. On the contrary, he has something he’s been needing to talk to him about since they left Kadavo. 

“I needed to be alone,” he starts, tentatively, and he knows Anakin can tell he doesn’t mean that he wants him to leave. “I’ve been around too much pain already, I couldn’t stand to be around more people in pain, more people I had no way to help.” 

In any other circumstance, he would just let his shields fall and share his feelings through their bond instead of having to explain them. Now, tired as he is, he’s afraid he’d end up showing too much, even all the things Anakin isn’t supposed to see, and so he keeps his barriers up and forces the words out, despite how painful it is. 

“I’ve never felt more useless in my life, Anakin. The pain of those people, their desperation, their hopelessness, it was worse than any battlefield, and I couldn’t do anything to help them,” he says in a broken whisper. 

He feels tears prickle at the corners of his eyes, and he tries to blink them away and he almost succeeds, until Anakin reaches out to take his hand and the tenderness of the touch is too much to bear on top of everything else. 

He closes his eyes, leans his head back and lets his tears fall. 

“I just needed to be back here, to be home,” he exhales. He squeezes Anakin’s hand on the last word, and when he does it back, adding a small nudge through their bond, what little is left of Obi-Wan’s self-control disappears as he folds over and breaks into violent sobs. 

“We saved them,” Anakin says softly as he lurches forward to wrap his arms around his shoulders, holding him to his chest as he shakes. “You helped them escape,” he whispers against his temple, his lips pressing a kiss into his skin. 

“But I had to watch them die first. And I thought,” his voice cracks, leaving him breathless for a second. “I thought I would die too. At some point I thought you’d been taken too and that no one would come for us.” 

It breaks his heart all over again to feel Anakin stir up with fear at his words, but he gently pieces it back together as he squeezes him even tighter, rubbing his flesh hand on his shoulder, and says, “You know I’ll always come to your rescue, master.” 

He presses another kiss to his temple and then lets out a soft chuckle as he adds, “Or, well, at least get in the same trouble as you, so we can find a way out together.” 

Obi-Wan allows himself an amused huff at the thought, and he’s immediately engulfed by a wave of relief and affection coming from Anakin. His former padawan’s feelings shine with the force of the twin suns of his home planet, and Obi-Wan lets that light seep through the folds of his pain, feels his heat start to cauterise the deep violent gashes opening up his soul to darkness, and it’s more healing than any amount of bacta. 

He knows Anakin doesn’t expect any thanks, but still he takes a second to send gratitude through their bond, before Anakin lets his arms slowly fall away from his shoulders, trailing a long, lingering caress down his back. 

“I got something from the med droids,” he says producing a small tub of bacta paste from the pocket of his leggings. 

“You _got_ it?” Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow at him. 

“They gave it to me,” says Anakin with a shrug and a soft smirk. 

“Willingly, I imagine,” exhales Obi-Wan, rolling his eyes but unable to bite back a smile. 

“Eagerly, I’d say,” responds Anakin, now beaming. 

Part of Obi-Wan would want to keep up the banter, slipping in a little lecture on the importance of behaving at least within the walls of the Temple, but before he can muster the strength for it, Anakin tears down his already weak resolution by nonchalantly asking him to take off his tunic. 

A slow, confused, “Excuse me?” is all Obi-Wan can come up with, busy as he is pulling his barriers back up to shield any improper emotion associated with the idea of being shirtless in Anakin’s presence. 

Unfazed, Anakin lifts up the tub of bacta and moves it in front of his face. 

“How else would you get this on your back?” he says, raising an eyebrow, and Obi-Wan hates not having an answer to that. 

Of course he needs someone to do it for him, and of course Anakin brought it for that specific purpose, and of course Obi-Wan has no evident sensible reason to deny him. Then, a small part of him surges up to say that he deserves this. He’s been through a lot and he has every right to let Anakin take care of him, however improper it feels. 

Shutting out his internal conflict, then, he doesn’t argue further, and he turns his back to Anakin before pulling his tunic over his back and gathering it in his lap. 

He distinctly hears Anakin’s breath hitch as he reveals his scarred skin, and the Force quakes around them as a rush of hatred spills out of the younger Jedi, coupled with an instinctive need for violence, a scorching desire for vengeance. He reaches out with his flesh hand and, as his fingers brush against the raised edges of Obi-Wan’s wounds, darkness churns inside of him. 

It only lasts a second before Anakin, mindful of his old lessons, manages to draw from the light side the strength to retake control of his heart and let the darkness dissipate. Hatred turns to pity, vengeance becomes justice, and anger quiets down, melting into acceptance. 

Obi-Wan can’t help being impressed and more than a little proud of his apprentice, remembering all the times he had guided him into that exercise in the early days of his training. He sends his approval through the Force, just like he used to do back then. 

“I don’t blame you for hating them,” he adds, though, out loud, because he needs to let him know. 

Anakin doesn’t respond. He stays quiet as he opens the tub of ointment and dips his flesh fingers into it. He scoops up a generous amount and starts spreading it over the worst of the electro-whip marks on Obi-Wan’s back. His hands are gentle as he makes sure the thick paste covers every inch of bruised skin. The electro-whips are designed to avoid leaving permanent marks on slaves, as to not lower their market value, but the bacta will help them heal faster and better. 

“I never did, even before. But now I see it more clearly,” Obi-Wan continues then, voice low but sure, and he knows Anakin’s listening despite being focused on his back. 

“We lead such busy lives, we claim to be keepers of the peace, defenders of the light, but then we let these things happen all over the galaxy.” 

He takes a deep breath, trying not to flinch as Anakin rubs the paste on the fresher bruises. 

“I thought of you so much, back in those barracks,” he Obi-Wan, barely louder than a whisper. 

“It was never this bad for me,” Anakin finally interjects. His tone is dry and his voice sounds tired, strained with effort. When he tries to probe into his mind, Obi-Wan finds him closed off in the Force, his feelings boarded up, inaccessible. 

He feels him move to another long mark that cuts diagonally across the top of his back and continues over his shoulder and a couple of inches down his chest. 

Anakin has to make him turn to reach all the way over, so Obi-Wan has a chance to try and read his feelings on his face, usually expressive enough, especially for someone who knows his body language as well as him. When he glances at him his heart tightens in finding his beautiful face crumpled like a piece of paper in a waste bin. His brow is furrowed, his lips twisted in a grimace, his nose scrunched up as if fighting a bad smell. 

“Anakin, you can tell me if this is too much. I can call up a droid, it-” he starts, reaching up to stop his hand where it’s massaging a wound near his neck, but Anakin shakes his hand away and continues. 

“It’s not that,” he mutters. He’s so close that Obi-Wan can feel the warmth of his breath on his neck. “I just,” he starts and then stops to sigh and starts again. “I hate them for hurting you. This shouldn’t have happened.” His voice now trembles with emotion, and now Obi-Wan realises that Anakin had put up his barriers to hide the dark thoughts that had come back to haunt him despite his attempts at fighting them. 

“We knew being taken was a risk going into the mission,” Obi-Wan responds calmly. 

“It shouldn’t have happened,” Anakin repeats, more harshly, and Obi-Wan knows him well enough to deduce what he really means to say even without having access to his feelings. 

He takes his hand again and holds it firmly in his own. 

“No one blames you for this. I certainly don’t, and you shouldn’t either,” he says, and before Anakin can even begin to show a frankly insulting surprise at his master’s ability to read his mind without using the Force, he continues with what he had wanted to say since Anakin first showed up at his door. 

“If anything, Anakin, it’s me who should apologise to you. I never realised what we made you leave behind when you joined the Order. I was too young and inexperienced, and I followed the Council’s advice to avoid stirring up thoughts of your past, to make you focus on the present. I should have known that you would never forget, and now I know you had every reason to never forgive, either. I know it’s too late and you every right not to accept my apology, but I am so, so sorry for not going back to free your mother.” 

Anakin, who had kept his eyes steadily fixed on their joined hands during his spiel, slowly lifts his head and, when he shows his face, all anger is gone from his finely chiselled features, and his eyes seem to have grown twice their normal size for how they glimmer with emotion. 

He gapes at his old master, struggling to breathe and evidently trying to rack his brain to find something to say. He doesn’t. 

Instead, he chooses to pull Obi-Wan into a hug, even tighter than the one before. 

He wraps his arms around his waist, his fingers digging into Obi-Wan’s sides, and hides his face into his shoulder, much like he did when he was way younger, just woken up from a nightmare. It doesn’t matter how much bigger he is, how different they are, how much more complicated their relationship has become. Right there and then, for a moment, they’re master and apprentice again, and nothing else matters. 

“Thank you, Master,” Anakin whispers, his breath scalding on Obi-Wan’s bare skin, his voice cracking with the deepest gratitude and a surprising hint of relief. 

Obi-Wan doesn’t need to add anything. He holds him close and rubs soothing circles on his back and wishes they never had to break apart again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Short, sweet and painful, just the way I like it.  
> I hope y'all liked it too.
> 
> Once again, thank you Elisa for hyping me up and checking my vibes, ilysm ♥
> 
> Anyone else, please leave a comment or come say hi on [twitter](https://twitter.com/chiickpii)!  
> I will write more soon, probably. Consider this a threat.


End file.
